It's time to let the healing begin
by Alexandros Black
Summary: What happens when a man meets a Ms. Hermione Granger-Weasley who claims to be a witch? At least one of them is mad, or could it be... magic? The british ministry of magic rescues a not-so-muggle man from despair.
1. Prologue

**Prologue **

Hermione Granger-Weasley sat at her desk at the Muggle Liaison Office at the Ministry of Magic. She had just returned from the minister's office. Kingsley had assigned her a very interesting case. It was about a muggle man from Greece who had been sending out energy, doing home-made magic rituals. This activity had been noted for a while now, but during the past few months it had increased. Hermione was to research any possible blood connection of Mr. Costopoulos's —the man in question— with the wizarding world and, possible, travel to Greece to talk to him.

The case was fascinating for two reasons. Firstly, because it was very unusual —impossible, by definition— for a muggle to send out energy. Muggles were the people who had no magical abilities in them whatsoever; they couldn't perform magic, _period_. Yet this man could, although the ministry doubted if he had any results.

Secondly, because if she managed to deal with the case properly she would be first in row to succeed the soon retiring head of the office. Hermione loved her work and got enough money out of it; she had a very loving family growing with Ron, great relations with her parents and in-laws and she was very happy. Yet there was something missing: the thrill of being the first in class, the top in everything she did. The satisfaction of the victory. Hermione hadn't had that since the war ended, since she stopped being the top student of Hogwarts and the top fighter of Dumbledore's Army.

So, yes, it was ambition. Hermione accepted that. But she also knew it wasn't the Slytherin type ambition Voldemort or even Dumbledore had. So, it wasn't bad.

She opened the large folder and started reading aloud: "Reports from the department of international magical cooperation, office of connected countries. Sunday, February 1st, 2009: Increased magical activity in Thessaloniki, Greece. Source: 7th floor flat in 29, Mitropoleos street. Description: Home-made ritual, asking for a better-looking body. Person involved: Alexandros Costopoulos. March 2nd, 2009: Same characteristics, asking for a lottery ticket to win."

The rituals were going and going. Their whole texts appeared in the parchment on Hermione's desk, getting more and more desperate over time. They were, plainly, cries for help. The man in question, Alex Costopoulos, appeared to hang from a thin string: He was too depressed to deal with his problems, that included poor financial (couldn't get a job), low self-esteem regarding to his body (couldn't start a diet regime or work out in order to loose weight), low mental control to ask for a dismissal to the country's obligatory military service.

He was a complete wreck. All he could was to lay down and wait for the disaster to take place. And ask the deities for help.

Well, this was kind of ordinary. That's what religions did throughout the world: offered people a non-existing shoulder to cry on and ask for help. The thing was that, while generally their prayers went to naught, Costopoulos's prayers were actually _heard_ – not by the Goddess he called but by the british ministry's magic sensors.

"Task:" said another piece of parchment. "Find whether Costopoulos is related to any country's magical community of not. If he is, get him in touch with it and help him with his problems. If not, help him with his problems and cancel his magical abilities."

Hermione sent a memo. She knew there was an office in the Ministry where a magical quill wrote down all magical children born. This register was used every year by the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry to offer a place in the school to the children that turned eleven years of age. She asked whether the name Costopoulos appeared in the register.

Then she sent a letter to Gringotts Bank in London to ask whether anyone by the name of Costopoulos had a vault in the bank. She included his mother, grandmother and great-grandmother's maiden names in the search.

The words "Head of department" echoed inside her ears. If only she solved this case.


	2. The fire

**The fire **

I was taking an easy walk down the streets of Thessaloniki. It was my turn today to do the shopping, as my sister, Katerina, had done it last time. I had managed to avoid the building's caretaker asking me to pay my share of the expenses for power, petrol etc. Passing the building's foyer I didn't find any new bills in my mailbox, so life was good.

Good my arse! My bank account balance was going lower and lower and if I had the courage to sum all my debts I would see that the money I owed were way more than the money I had. So I couldn't pay all my bills and if I paid some of them, I wouldn't have anything. So I didn't do anything, waiting for the upcoming disaster to take place. Then I would, I hoped, find the courage to terminate this stupid life once and for all.  
I had a faint hope, though. Magic. I know, I know, it sounds extremely stupid to expect for the supernatural to help me, for the whole universal energy to look down and solve my problems. Stupid or naive, pick your favourite word. But I had long ago decided there were no other options available to me. This was something I could still do, small rituals. So I would continue to do them, as best as I could, and hope for the best.  
The best for me would be to fall asleep and wake up finding out this was a bad dream. This depressing life with no opportunities, no family to help me (except for my sister who was as fucked up as I was), nothing I can believe in. But still, solutions smaller than the best would still be fairly enough, like winning the lottery for instance. Over and over again, week after week I bought lottery tickets and beg the Goddess to make them win but nothing would happen. The song "Personal Jesus" echoed through my head (although I was an atheist): _Someone to hear your prayers, someone to care_. Oh well.

* * *

Hermione Granger was walking the streets of Thessaloniki, Greece, following Alex Costopoulos. She had lived too much in the Burrow to remember how many people filled a city. And how none of them used magic. Shops were all around her selling all kind of things, the streets were full of cars in a terrible traffic, people waiting in the bus stops, music coming from the street cafés (it seemed that Greeks had a great love for street cafés, because there were too many and all full.

Hermione had concluded her research in London and had come to Thessaloniki a few days ago on a portkey that would take her home to England when she finished her mission. But of course, for that to happen she had to actually /finish it/. She had to talk to Alex. Maybe take him to one of those nice cafés, tell him who she was, what she was doing here, help him out. But she couldn't. It was embarrassing, actually. The woman who had confronted Sirius Black when she thought of him as a cruel serial killer and Dolores Umbridge when she thought of her as... well, as she was in reality (a cruel bitch) was having problem talking to a simple man and telling him what she needed. So she kept watching and following him. When she saw him leaving his flat tonight she thought it would be the right time to take him to a bloody café and tell him everything. But something was holding her.

Alex had just stopped to an ATM and withdrawn a fifty euro bill. She waited for a few seconds and approached the machine. Careful not to be noticed, she took her wand out of her purse and tapped the machine with it. The machine printed a receipt of its latest transaction. Hermione read it. Withdrawal of 50€ and less than 1000€ left.

Entering the super market, I almost bumped into a brown-hair woman around my age. Fighting my urge to call her a nasty name, I got in and started shopping. Bread, cheese, milk, meat and other groceries. Always the cheapest brand, of course. I saw her again a few corridors away. I let her go first, politely, and then followed to grab some spagetti and went to the cashiers.

* * *

Twice she stopped to talk to him and twice she failed to do it. What was the problem with her? If Ron was there he would make fun of her. Maybe it was his look that backed her off. Longish black hair and beard and an abstract, pained expression in his brown eyes. He resembled Sirius the first few months after his escape from Azkaban or Remus before he reconciled with his old friend. Only Alex was fatter, way fatter. But this too could be a sign of depression. Other people ate more, others less; other people slept more, others less. But none of them was content, that was the common point in all depressed people. But she was there to help him, so why wasn't she doing it? Dammit!  
Alex was now returning home. Bollocks, she thought, she would loose him again and would have to wait for days for him to get out of the house again.

But fate was one step ahead of her.

* * *

I turned to the street where my flat was when I heard the sirens. Two fire brigade vehicles were parked in the two-lane road and three ambulances were behind them. I got worried. I looked up and my worries became horribly real. My building and the one next to it were on fire. I panicked. I dropped the groceries on the pavement and ran towards the door. Two officers stopped me.

"Please, I need to get it, I live here. My sister is inside!"

"You can't enter, sir. The fire brigade team will get everyone out. Please relax, everything is under control."

Under control my arse, I thought. Katerina was in and I needed to get her out. I was faintly hearing the officer explaining to some people that there had been a gas leak causing the fire, when my mind overtook and found a way into the building without the officers noticing me.  
The flat was on fire. There was thick smoke everywhere. I opened my mouth to shout for her, but smoke filled my lungs. I coughed fiercely and walked the corridor to her room. Chances were she would be in her bedroom. Luckily, I was right. She was there and her clothes were on fire. I used her blanket to put it out. She was unconscious, so I took her in my arms. We were downstairs in a second. I walked her over to an ambulance. The paramedics took her in and saw me coughing. They tried to put me in another ambulance but I protested. "She's my sister, I'm going with her." They let me ride the same ambulance and off we went. Then everything blackened.

* * *

Merlin mother's panties!! That was not good. That was not good at all! She was on the street watching Alex watching the fire, when he vanished with a loud `pop'. Merely minutes later, he reappeared next to an ambulance with another `pop'. Everyone was looking at the flaming building so, hopefully, nobody had noticed Alex apparating and disapparating in a street full of muggles, probably without even realising, but still. It meant Hermione had lost control of the situation, as she feared she would.

But now she had to act, and quickly. Muttering an incantation ("Translatio!") she approached the driver of the next ambulance. "Excuse me, sir, was the young lady alright?"

"She was breathing when they took her, ma'am, that's important for the time being. Is she a friend of yours?" he replied.

"Er, yes, a close one."

"The ambulance went to Papageorgiou Hospital, at the Emergencies."

She thanked him and ran. The street was closed by the police (obviously) so she had to walk a whole block before finding a taxi. "Quickly, Papageorgiou Hospital" she told the driver as she sat in the back. Half-taking her wand of her purse she muttered "Silencio" so the driver wouldn't hear her talking on the phone, and dialled a familiar number. "Yes, Kingsley? Things went bad, very bad!"

**Author's note:** OK, so this is the first chapter of my first story ever! Yes, Hermione is ambitious, but we knew that, didn't we? More HP characters will come soon. So far I have written until chapter 8, and I have two or three more in my head.


	3. Papageorgiou hospital

**2. Papageorgiou hospital **

Hermione Granger was pacing up and down the long waiting room at the Emergencies in Papageorgiou hospital. How could things be so bad? If she had only talked to him an hour before.

This was no good. She had to focus. She sat down at an empty chair and took a sip of the dreadful hospital coffee. She opened her bag; looking for the letters, she came across her fake ID, the only she faked herself before leaving from England, just in that case so she could `prove' she was a relative. _Hermione Georgiadou, born Costopoulou_.

Then she opened the first letter. It was from the Ministry.

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_  
Replying to your request, Mr. Alexandros Costopoulos had been registered as a wizard upon his birth, in December 1979, but was unregistered four years later, in December 1983 for unknown reasons. Ms. Katerina Costopoulou was never registered and is consider a muggle._

_  
After consultations with the greek and british muggle governments, we have reached the conclusion that the Costopoulos family have a distant blood relativity with the Black family, due to an out-of-marriage affair of Cronus Black to a greek muggle woman._

_  
_Hermione knew the clerk was talking about the magical quill that wrote down the names of every magical child --witch/wizard or squib-- born within the jurisdiction of the british ministry. Those names were written down in a special book. She hadn't personally heard of any case where a child's name was _unregistered_, but she knew it could happen if the child lost their magic due to a great shock.

The second letter was from the Gringotts bank in London.

_We inform you that the Costopoulos siblings are the only living heirs of the vault No. 3142, containing ten million galeons in gold and various artefacts and also of a house in St. Ottery Catchpole, England  
_

This was the information Hermione had come to give. Alex and Katerina Costopoulos were considered Muggles. Hermione would act as a middle woman between them and the magical world, informing them of their heirloom and making sure they got the money.

But now everything changed. As soon as Kingley Shaklbolt heard what had happened, her mission had been altererd. If Costopoulos had apparated (twice!) without even realising, that meant his magic had returned. Alex was now considered a wizard and Katerina a squib. Hermione's mission was to take them to Britain as soon as they recovered, so they could talk with the Minister and decide what they wanted to do now. They would be offered positions in Hogwarts as external students and would take their full heirloom.

A doctor had come. Hermione didn't bother talk to him this time. She had been doing exactly that for the past four hours to no avail. But this time, he came to her. "Ms Georgiadou? Come with me please, we need to talk."

He took her to an office and sat behind the desk. Hermione sat in a chair at the other side of the desk. "Ms Georgiadou, I am afraid Ms Katerina Costopoulou passed away. She was already in a bad shape when she got here, I'm afraid there wasn't much we could do. My condolences, ma'am."

Hermione frowned. So much for the unconscious apparition, she thought.

"Mr Costopoulos on the other hand" the doctor continued "although he inhaled a lot of smoke, is fine. At least physically. Mentally he isn't very well, he kept shouting and calling his sister, but we don't know how much of it is from the shock and how much from his condition - the depression. He has taken some medicine to rest and is sleeping right now, but you can talk to him tomorrow."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, thank you doctor. I will come back then. Shall I make funeral arrangements?"

"I'm afraid the police hasn't allowed yet. It's only formalities, because of the investigation for the accident. I believe they will allow it tomorrow, though."

Hermione thanked the doctor and left his office. Entering the female toilets (a safe place for her to apparate to her hotel) she started crying. A person had died and another was in bad mental condition, just when their prayers had been heard. Life wasn't fair.

The next afternoon, Hermione walked the corridor to the psychiatric clinic where Alex had been moved. The head nurse informed her that Alex had started taking heavy antidepressants that made him sleepy, so she couldn't see him for more than fifteen minutes.

Finally, she was allowed to enter his room. Hermione was feeling very nervous. She had to tell Alex he was a wizard and that his sister was dead. How would she do it? How would he take it? Damn her career ambitions; she had only taken this mission because she was eyeing the position of head of the muggle liaison office for some months. Well, she deserved it, she was quick and bright and hard-working and perfect for the job but still... delivering such news was hard, too hard.

She took a deep breath entered the room.

Alex was lying in his bed wearing a hospital gown, his bruises covered in bandages and his face clean, apart from a not so well kept beard. He was calm; too calm regarding the situation, Hermione thought. His eyes were looking at nothing in particular. He hadn't even noticed her entering the room.

She sat in a chair by the bed and faked a small coughed to grab his attention. It worked, because he slowly turned his head and saw her. "Hallo Alex", she smiled weakly.

"Um... hallo", he said dreamily.

"How are you feeling Alex?"

"I... I don't know. Strange. Like I'm here, but at the same time I'm not."

Hermione felt like crying. But she couldn't; she had a job to do, to help this man.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? Are you a doctor?" he said.

Hermione felt grateful for that, for she wouldn't have found what to say else. "You don't. But I'm here to help you. My name is Hermione. I'm a friend. Everything..."

"Oh, that's it, isn't it?" he interrupted, his eyes full of rage. "She died and they couldn't say it and they sent you to do the hard job, the cowards!"

Hermione was dumbstruck. "Alex..."

"I saved her! I ran seven floors up the stairs to get down and they couldn't do the rest! She's my sister!" He stopped, short for words. Emotions were overtaking him.

"Alex, please listen to me. Are you sure you _ran_ up the stairs?"

"Of course I did, what are you talking about? I brought her to safety only for the bloody doctors to... to... fail..." his voice cracked again.

"But do you remember running up and down? Do you even remember entering the building?" Hermione was talking quicker now, she knews she didn't have much time left. "I was there Alex, I saw the whole thing, you didn't do any of this, you just disappeared and..."

"STOP IT!" He shouted. "I GOT MY SISTER OUT OF THE BUILDING AND..."

A nurse rushed into the room. "Ms Georgiadou, that's enough! You must go. Now!" She dragged Hermione out of the room, while other nurses and doctors were getting in. Hermione glanced a doctor injecting something in Alex's arm.

The doctor left the room some minutes later. Hermione was pacing up and down. She had made a mess! She had hurried too much! She was about to ruin everything, damn her!

"You should leave now, Ms Georgiadou. We gave him a tranquilliser, he will be asleep for the rest of the day.

Hermione returned to the hotel and sent two letter using pigeons. One to the Minister's office, giving her report of the day and another to Ron at the Burrow and then got to bed. Next day would be just as hard, she needed to rest.

* * *

**Author's note:** Yes, pigeons. There are awfully too many over here, pooping all around them. Have you ever tried to clean bird poops from the balcony floor or the window? They can definetely be put in some use! Besides, Sirius used a tropical bird in the fourth book.

So sorry for all my grammatical errors. I know, I misuse the propositions (at, in, or, I confuse them).

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I could definetely use your ideas in two-three chapters.


	4. Revelations

**4. Revelations **

Alex was calm again the following day. He actually apologised when Hermione entered his room.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you yesterday. This is all so... overwhelming. At least the medicines work, I feel numb once again." He smiled sadly.

Hermione returned the smile, holding her tears back. "I understand. Don't worry. I told you, I'm here to help."

"But... who are you? The doctors claim you are my cousin but, obviously, you're not", he asked.

"I know. I had to give a fake name so they would let me see you. I'm sorry for that. But, believe me, what I have to tell you is worth it." She opened her bag and handed him a small business card. Alex read it aloud.

"_Hermione Granger, journalist_. So that's what is it about. You are writing a piece on the fire, you want an interview of the depressed man who lost his sister, and his home and... well, everything."

"No. Far from that." She smiled mischievously, like she had seen Fred and George do so many times and leaned towards him. "Alex, do you believe in magic?" she whispered.

* * *

I just looked at her. I didn't know what to say. She was a total stranger and yet I still thought I could trust her. "Yes", I whispered. Still smiling, Hermione took a thin, long piece of wood from her bag. Could this be a wand? She tapped her business card with the stick's end. Suddendly, it changed. It now wrote _Hermione Granger, Muggle Liaison Office, Ministry of Magic, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland_.

I was looking at the card blankly. My mind had simply stopped.

Hermione leaned closer to me again. "Alex, have you read the _Harry Potter_ book series?" I nodded. "Well, everything is true. J.K. Rowling had a special licence from the Ministry to publish the true story of Voldemord's defeat disguised as a childrens' story, but that's not the point now.

"The point is that we have been observing you for some time now. You are a wizard, Alex."

* * *

All right. Something was _way_ wrong here. It couldn't be possible for a book character to come into my hospital room and tell me all those mad things, was it? It was obvious that my mind had gone wild. Which shouldn't surprise me, of course. I was already loosing it being poor and unemployed, owing money to water, power and telephone companies and fearing that any day now I would be called for military service, and, of course, being depressed. It was only rational to loose it utterly and completely when my sister, my only living relative, died in a fire that also destroyed our family flat.

"Alex, are you with me?" I heard the familiar voice next to me.

"I'm with you all right" I said. "Only I don't know whether the two of us are with reality any more." I mean, if I saw Hermione Granger in my hospital room I could very well see David Tennant wearing the Doctor's brown suit and red sneakers, couldn't I? With Donna Noble, please, I prefer her to Rose. "I think I've lost it, gone bonkers, somebody lock me up, please!"

Hermione giggled. "'Bonkers', Ron says that a lot."

So does Russell T. Davies, I thought, but kept it to myself. "So, if I am to believe in this hallucination, you are one of the three main characters of a fiction book telling me the world of the book is real and I'm a part of it." One eyebrow higher that the other.

"Well... I know how it sounds" (good for you, I thought) "but I can prove it. My card was just an example. But if you don't mind, we need some privacy first." She took her wand off her bag again and waved it, closing the door and the window grilles. "Silencio" she added so that no one could hear us.

"All right. Here's the deal. My superior in the muggle liaison office noticed unusual magical activity from your flat in Thessaloniki, Greece. He assigned me to make a little research to find what was going on. I found out that you come from a wizarding family and were, in fact, registered as wizard from your birth until the winter of 1983. What happened then, by the way?"

"My grandmother passed away from a heart attack. I was four years old playing with my toys by her bed when her sister entered the room and started crying, seeing her blank eyes. I hadn't even noticed until then." My eyes were wet. So were hers.

"I'm sorry" she said. "So, the shock of your grandmother's death probably shut down the part of your brain where magic exists. A few months ago that part started coming to life again. Did anything happen?"

I explained briefly my financial and psychological status and the small rituals I had tried in order to ameliorate things.

"Oh, that must be it then. By the way, you'll be glad to know you have quite a large fortune in Britain, gold and a house – Gringotts informed me two nights ago. Anyway, I came in Thessaloniki to talk with you about all this, but couldn't find the nerve to approach you." She tensed a little. "I was following you around the other night, when you reached home and... and you saw the fire. And then I saw you disapparate and return a few moments later with your sister in your arms."

I looked up at her, not saying a word. She continued. "I took a taxi to the hospital while talking to Kingsley on the phone —there is no floo network here, you see— and the rest is history" she said with a nervous chuckle.

While trying to deal with all this, an odd question came to my mind. "Why you? I mean, why Britain? Why didn't the greek ministry deal with it?"

"There is no greek ministry of magic. Greek wizard and witches are very few and either live abroad or prefer to live as muggles. The UK had taken the task of helping the greek government form a ministry here after World War II, but this never happened. So, all magical activity in Greece falls under our jurisdiction."

"Oh, I see."

We stayed silent for a while.

"So, what happens now?" I asked.

She explained me her plan. It seemed good and I had nothing better to do. So, I said yes.


	5. The end of an era

**5. The end of an era... **

The next morning I was released from the hospital. My burns had healed and my soul —though definitely not healed— had settled a bit. I was given a prescription and was told to return next week for re-evaluation.

Hermione held me by the arm and we left the wing. We found a secluded spot and she apparated me to my flat. Most of it was ruins, but there were a few things intact. She conjured an empty trunk out of thin air and I put some things in. A change of clothes, socks and underwear; a few books (including my diary and my favourite pencil); my computer's hard drive. My ancestors' photographs. Hermione apparated the trunk back to her hotel room and took a while to return. I was glad; I needed to spend a few moments alone in my birthhome, perhaps for the last time.

Then she apparated me to the cemetery. There would be a joint funeral of all ten people that had died in that fire, all paid by the gas company's legal department (obviously they wanted to show a caring face, because they had failed to notice the malfunction in time). I couldn't cry at the funeral, so many people were there, acting casually and only looking sad when they talked to the victims' relatives. Some women were making a scene, screaming and beating themselves like actors in ancient tragedies. Hypocrites(*)!

I tried to talk to as few people as possible. I didn't need that. I promised to return soon to see my sister's grave alone, bring flowers and sit with her. But now I needed to go. This was way too much!

Hermione had stayed a few metres back from me and the whole fuss, and I respected her for that. I also respected the fact that her face was full of tears although she didn't know her (and not fake frowns like the people who did know her). I stood by her and took a tranquilliser; she didn't say anything. "Shall we?" I asked. She must had seen the begging in my eyes, because she nodded and took my hand. We walked a few more metres, made sure nobody was watching and disapparated.

We apparated in an alley beside her hotel. We got in, Hermione paid the bill and we came down again pulling our trunks.

"Goddess, these things are heavy!" I said.

"Sorry, I can't use magic, we'll be seen."

We returned to the alley, pretending to cross the road to find a taxi. She opened her trunk and took out a large illustrated book. Her fingers were over the title, but the author's name was still visible: Vefa Alexiadou.

"A cooking book?" I raised an eyebrow.

"A gift for Molly", she grinned. "Ron and the children are staying with her until I return." Then she instructed me to sit on my trunk and grab it strongly with my legs; she did the same with hers and we both grabbed the book on different ends. After a few moments, the cooking book glowed a brilliant blue colour. "Hold tight" she said and we vanished.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kingsley Shaklbolt sat back in his chair. He had made all preparations for the Greek man's arrival. He had gone over the plan with Hermione Granger over the phone yesterday and they had found it fine. Using his wand, he ticked all items in the gold-lettered list floating in mid-air.

_Appointment in St. Mungo's, tick; talk with the muggles in Papageorgiou Hospital about Costopoulos's alleged treatment in a british psychiatric facility, tick; talk to the Weasleys for him to stay at the Burrow, tick; inform the british prime minister about the whole situation, tick; talk to professor McGonagall about Costopoulos's possible training, tick; and finally, appointment with the Gringotts bank, tick._

Yes. Everything was ready.

* * *

NOTE: (*) In ancient greek, 'hypocrite' (ὑποκριτής/-τρια) is a person pretending to be someone else than who they really are. The world had no negative meaning, and in fact it translated to 'actor/actress'. In modern greek it has the same negative meaning, as in english.

**Author's note: **I didn't upload a new chapter yesterday, so I uploaded two today. Thank you for the reviews. The story is changing now, it's getting less depressed, I think you'll like it more. Also, this was a small chapter (I decided my chapters would be approximately 1500 words long) but I didn't want to join it to the next one.


	6. And the beginning of another

**6. ...and the beginning of another **

The Burrow looked exactly like it was described in the books. A load of levels and floors thrown randomly one over the other and held together by pure magic. Still, it was beautiful.

The kitchen door opened and a chubby red-haired woman ran towards us. Molly Weasley hugged Hermione and then me, before I had the chance to greet her. "Alex dear, how are you? did you have a good travel? I hope this portkey was stable enough, so many kilometres, oh let me see you, so handsome dark eyes and quite chubby like me, are you?" she giggled and led us in the house. She reminded so much of my own mother I giggled along with her as we sat in the kitchen table.

Molly offered us tea, which I accepted and Hermione didn't, heading off to Ron's room whom she hadn't seen for over a week. I chatted with Molly for a while, thanking the Goddess she didn't say anything about my current issues. Then I helped her prepare dinner; I made smashed potatoes while she roasted a large piece of pork. It was so casual and cosy that reminded me of the time my mother and I cooked in our own kitchen and I goofilly grinned the whole time.

Then she guided me to Bill's old room in which I would live for the time, showing me the bathroom on our way there. She had guided our trunks to our respected rooms with her wand a little while ago. I lit the candles with the wand she lent me ("Just point it at the candle and think of it as lit, dear") and unpacked my very few belongings. Then I walked to the bathrooms and took a long hot shower scrubbing the recent disasters off me with the lavender perfumed soap. It was very nice and rejuvenating. I almost felt like home again. Drying myself, getting dressed and combing my hair, I took another pill and headed downstairs again.

Ronald and Arthur Weasley were there and they introduced themselves. Good thing I was taking my pills, because I did have a problem with crowds and had already seen one earlier in the day. But that was fine, this was a kind crowd; people I had met through the books and who were now helping me start my life from scratch and make it better.

The fire in the large fireplace turned green and two people emerged from it. A man my age with black hair falling over his forehead and green eyes with glasses, and a slightly younger red-headed girl. While we introduced ourselves and I was telling them I had read all about them, the fire became green again and a black man in his fourties emerged.

"And this is the man whose fault it is you read all about us", Harry laughed. Kingsley Shacklbolt, minister for magic, returned the laugh. "Well, people had a right to know about the war and all and J.K. has such a talented quill. And the fact she wrote the whole story in such profanity convinced everyone it was just a fairy tale."

We kept joking and laughing, until we were called in the kitchen for dinner. Thank Goddess their children were not there (the Weasley kids had already eaten and gone to bed and the Potter kids were at home with Andromeda Tonks) because eight people were quite enough for me at the time.

"We should had invited Bill and Fleur over with Victoire and Percy and Charlie and..." Molly started but was cut by Athur who, seeing the terror in my eyes said "That's all right Molly, let the man a few days to adjust in peace without the whole of magical Britain coming over."

My polite manners took over and I said over the collective chuckle "I really want to thank you for opening your house for me at this difficult time. I will try not to be a burden and help myself as soon as I am able to..."

"Nonsense" was the collective reply to this. I was told I was welcome to stay at the Burrow for as long as I needed, which made feel so grateful.

The Minister took the opportunity and started discussing my schedule for the next few days. I noticed the gentleness in his voice and the fact that they had planned for a person to accompany me every day, so I wouldn't face anything alone.

"Alex, tomorrow morning Hermione will floo you to St. Mungo's before going to work. You will ask for Ginny at the reception area" (Ginny was a healer in St. Mungo's, I had learnt) "and she will make some tests on you to see whether your issues can be resolved easily – I personally believe they can, in a heartbeat. Should you finish early you can return here or come by my office, although it's possible for you to have to spend the night there.

"In any case, there is no need to hurry. Everything has been already organised. You just rest and enjoy."

I was feeling tired, but I had to ask something more.

"Minister, are you sure I deserve all this? I mean, it's not your burden to save me from my disasters..."

"My dear boy" Kingsley concluded smiling "it is _precisely_ our burden. You may not fully realise it yet, but you were very very right calling us for help. It is our fault that you weren't introduced in this world in 1991, when those fine young men and woman were, and it's our responsibility to fix it. Relax", he grinned, "everything is under control :-)"


	7. St Mungo's

**7. St. Mungo's **

The next morning, I woke up at, well... noon. Now, this isn't unusual for me, with my depression and all: what's the reason to wake up in the morning, when everything is fucked up, when you face the fear of having your water, power and telephone connections cut due to unpaid bills and receiving more bills? Finally I do wake up, when my body really demands for its needs to be taken care of. So, I wake up at around 12 or 1 pm with a terrible, terrible headache.

I remembered having thrown the clothes I wore at the floor and having taken my second set of clothes from my trunk and put them lazily in a chair. This morning, however, I found both sets —socks, underwear, trousers and sweater— clean, ironed, smelling lavender, and tidily sitting on the same chair. And also mended, I thought with further embarrassment. Molly must had taken and cleaned them, I thought, and felt guilty at the same time. She wasn't my maid or my mother, she didn't have to do that, it was already selfish of me to live in her house and eat her food and shower with her water and all.

* * *

Molly Weasley woke up at 6 am that day, as usual. She showered, dressed and went to the kitchen to make breakfast to everyone. Arthur, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny came down, took their breakfast and left for their works at the Ministry, Diagon Alley, the Ministry, the Ministry and St. Mungo's respectively. (Alex would find the thought of how many witches and wizards were civil servants really interesting, had he been awake.)

Then Molly had laundry to do, so she quietly opened Alex's door, only to find him deeply asleep (and snoring heavily, she should mention that to Ginny). She saw clothes on the floor, so she took them. Before washing them (actually, before charming them to wash and dry themselves), she saw Alex's clothes were quite damaged in various places. Feeling a little sorry for the obvious poverty of the young man who could have been her son —he was the same age as Ron, give or take— she pointed her wand at them and muttered something. Now the clothes were as good as new. Then she did the same with the other set and put them nicely on the chair.

* * *

"Good morning, dear" Molly greeted me when I came into the kitchen. "You really needed some rest, didn't you?"

"Er, I suppose I did." I probably looked as guilty as I felt. "Thank you for my clothes, you didn't really have to do that."

"Nonsense", she smiled. "You're living in my house, so I'm taking care of you. Mind you, I'm doing it for me actually. Ever since my children grew up and left home I am completely bored in this house" she chuckled. "Besides, you're doing me a favour. You're the attraction everyone's coming to see, which makes the Burrow a popular dinner place and Arthur and myself really happy."

She was smiling, and probably saying those things to make me feel less guilty, but I supposed she had some right. Having raised seven children and two of their best friends (Harry and Hermione practically lived there during their school years) and then being just you and your husband must be a quite a change.

I changed the subject. "I was supposed to visit Ginny in St. Mungo's today, do you think it's too late to go there now?" Ginny was a healer, as I had learnt, and would treat my depression and other physical issues.

"She fire-called me earlier, actually. She said she'd be available until four o'clock. So, you can finish your breakfast while I warm water for your shower and then you can floo there."

It was interesting to find out they were actually using the muggle water network, but heated water with heating charms instead of actually boiling them. "It's faster and safer that way" Molly explained before leaving me to eat.

* * *

It was two p.m. when I flood into the large lobby of st. Mungo's hospital for magical injuries and maladies. Healer Potter's office was at the second floor, as the nurse in the reception informed me.

"Hi, Alex" she greeted me when I knocked her door. "Would you like a cup of tea before we begin?"

I declined, explaining I just had breakfast, which was more like a lunch, according to the british customs. In Greece, we have a really tiny breakfast, then a heavy lunch and a quite smaller dinner. In the UK it was totally different!

She laughed and led me to a medical bed. I drank the potion she offered and lied down ("You don't have to take your clothes off, I can diagnose you dressed"). Pointing her wand at the wall beside me, she muttered something and a whole-body image of me appeared, only it was more like a map. There were spots encircled in colours and an appendix at the bottom!

"So, let's see" she said when I stood again, both of us looking at the Alex-map. "I can definitely see a mental condition, but it can probably healed over time with potions. I can see a small malfunction on your heart and lungs, probably because of smoking and excessive weight" (she frowned a bit). "Still, we can heal them right away, but they will come back if you don't cut down on your smoking and we don't work on your body fat."

"About that..." I started but then saw her knowing face. "Oh, I suppose you've talked with Hermione about that. Well, I don't mind. I really loath my body and want to change it. I also have decided how I'd like it to be, I could show you pictures, only... um... they're on my hard drive."

"Could they be on the Internet?"

My jaw dropped. Did they have computers and Internet??

She laughed. "Well, what did you expect? We're magical, not Neanderthals! We have all the appliances we need, we just operate them using magic." And with that, she took a laptop out of a drawer in her desk. She opened it and handed it to me. I was surprised it was running Linux (heil for open source software, even witches use it!). I opened Firefox and googled 'Mitch Hewer'. The most beautiful man's on the planet photographs were loaded and we saved a few.

"Perfect" she said. "But you must know, we can change everything you like in your body, but not the face. The face must stay the same or, at least, fairly recognisable. It's the law, you see, otherwise criminals would change their faces and walk away."

She had a point, of course, so we decided to take a few wrinkles off and make my hair thick and black, as they were ten years ago.

After discussing all that (and something more embarrassing and private that isn't your business to know!), she started working on the sequence of spells and potions to use. That took almost two hours and it was 17:30 when we finally left the building.

I practically raised Molly off the floor when I hugged her that evening, I was so happy! I even muttered the lyrics of Abba's _Chiquitita_ while cooking pot roast chicken (my mother's recipe) for dinner.

_Sing a new song, chiquitita..._

_

* * *

**Author's note:**_ I know it's a little lame to use ABBA songs, but I loved it :) And yes, they have computers. Yay :-)_  
_


	8. New clothes, new professors

**8. New clothes, new professors**

The man who set foot in 12, Grimmauld place two evenings later didn't look anything like the one who had been teleported to the Burrow almost a week ago riding a trunk. I was beautiful, fair and square, like I had never ever been.

Ginny had said that the process would be quite painful, so it was better for me to be asleep during it. From what they told me afterwards, it lasted four hours, spell after potion after spell, for my DNA to alter and then a full twenty-four hours for my body to adjust to its new DNA. When I woke up and the healers made sure I felt ok, I was allowed to go. Ginny had insisted that we floo to her and Harry's house instead of walking because, as she had said, had I not been a friend I wouldn't be released for another night.

Now I only had to take two potions every day, one for my depression and another for the changes in my DNA to be made permanent. Next week I was to report to St. Mungo's again for re-evaluation. Oh, and I had to buy new clothes, because I was currently wearing Harry's extras!

Ginny had been clever enough to cut enough of my hair before the operation, so we would have plenty to make polyjuice potion for me to use, should I need to return to Greece soon, because it would be hard to explain my transformation otherwise.

Entering the large living room, I was introduced to the Potter children (James and Albus-Severus), young Ted Lupin and Mrs. Andromeda Tonks who apparently lived there now with her grandson. A little afterwards, the front door opened and Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom entered.

When we sat at the table, the Potter couple made a toast to my new magical life and Neville informed us of his promotion.

"It seems that professor Sprout is _finally_ retiring" (she had apparently changed her mind a few times during the year whether to retire or not, until the headmistress threatened to fire her if she didn't decide for sure) "and McGonagall offered me the position. Starting on September the first, I will be full professor and first in line for head of Gryffindor when Hagrid retires."

Another toast was made to Neville's professorship, who turned to Harry once again.

"McGonagall also wanted me to remind you that the DADA professorship is your's, should you want it." Harry shruged and Neville explained to me. "The Headmistress decided that DADA classes shouldn't be given to any wizard like in the past, but to only experienced and talented aurors, and since Harry works for the auror office for ten years now she keeps nagging him to take it."

"And still Harry prefers to put his head on the line every day, ignoring how his safety is important to his family" added Ginny meaningfully.

"Ginny, we have gone over this a thousand times..." Harry started.

"...and we will a thousand more!" Ginny replied, angrily. "You have two sons, a daughter on the way and a godson, not to mention a wife and Andy who lives with us!"

"What?" Harry noticed Ginny's anger turn to smile as he said "A daughter?"

"The healers told me today!" Ginny's face went sunny and Harry stood up and hugged her – and also kissed her deeply while all of us suddenly found everything else interesting.

Mrs Tonks made another toast and Neville started once again. "And guess who else takes full professorship in Potions next year? And it's not that Ravenclaw girl Slughorn had hired as an assistant."

"What?" shouted Ginny. "Malfoy's becoming a professor? Since when McGonagall hires Death Eaters?"

"Well, he did renounce his allegiance to Voldemort right after the war, and we know he didn't really support him after all" Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but still... the boy almost killed Dumbledore that night."

"Almost – he couldn't go through with it" Neville said. "Actually, he's even nice those days. Since his release he's a different man. I suppose he understood everybody hated his family and decided to change."

"Even my sister started talking to me again" Andromeda said. "Cissy was devastated when Bella died, she realised it could have been her or me instead. Actually, Ted and I are invited for dinner tomorrow at the Malfoy's."

"Look at that... Next thing Draco'll marry a muggle-born! The world is coming to an end!" Ginny laughed.

After dinner I excused myself and was shown to a guest-room. Ginny was right, I needed more rest. I took my clothes off (Harry's clothes, actually) and took a hot shower. Soaping every part of my renewed body, I got an erection. Believe it or not, it was my first since Katerina's death. I toweled myself and looked at my new body at the full-length mirror in the bedroom. Goddess, it was magnificent! I felt like crying from happiness (which actually reminded me to take my potions).

I got to bed and slept serenely for the first time in months – no, years.

* * *

I woke up the following morning calm and something else (happy?) I walked into the bathroom and looked myself at the mirror _and saw it good_. Another shower and another set of Harry's clothes after, I went to the kitchen. Ginny was the only one there and we had breakfast. A little while after, Hermione flood in and the three of us left the —once— grim, old place.

We walked the not-so-crowded, as it was Saturday, streets of London trying clothes and shoes in various muggle shops. I bought a few and the girls too (ha! women always look for an excuse to shop!). I had paid using Hermione's visa (witches carrying credit cards? Would Dymbledore approve?) because I didn't have access to my Gringotts vault yet and I was literally penniless.

It was an hour before shops closed, so we went to Diagon Alley through the Leaky Cauldron. The girls entered Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and I entered Gringotts bank. I gave my name to the front office and asked to talk to the goblin in charge of inheritances. I was shown to an office.

The goblin behind the desk greeted me politely and took a thick folder from a desk.

"Ah, mr. Costopoulos, we had been expecting you, the Minister informed us of your visit. Welcome to the magical world." I thanked him and he continued. "Now, your inheritance from your great-grandfather Cronus Black consists of the vault no. 3142 and a house in St. Ottery Catchpole, quite near the Burrow where you are currently staying. If you could please sign these" he showed me some contracts "and then we can visit your vault."

I skimmed through the contracts and saw that they were harmless, just the kind of papers one signs when accepting an inheritance. I signed them and we headed for the vaults.

We rode on a trolley and reached a locked door. The goblin opened it and we entered. My jaw almost dropped. I knew I was rich now, but still I hadn't expected that. The small room was shining from all the gold. Most of it was coins in stacks, but there were various other objects. Some of them were jewels. There was a very pretty necklace in particular that reminded me one of my mom's (that we had sold years ago). I took it and put in my pocket smiling. I also took a small wooden box containing two very plain gold earrings. I wore them on the spot. I also took some coins, enough to repay for the clothes and buy the others dinner, unless I had miscalculated the conversions between galleons and pounds sterling – and some more. I put the coins in a leather pounce with the initials C.B. and left the vault.

The goblin locked the door, he gave one of the two keys and we were on the surface in no time. I joined the others in WWW and declared "I am buying dinner to us all! What is the best restaurant here?"

Everyone named the Leaky Cauldron, so we went there. Hermione, Ron, George, Ginny and I had the meal of our lives. I paid the bill proudly, returned to Hermione the cost of my clothes and Tom the landlord (who was the same as ten years ago, apparently) offered us desert on the house.

George returned to the shop while the rest of us walked back to Grimmauld place, leaving Ron and Hermione on the way (apparently they didn't live too far from Harry and Ginny).

I slept at Grimmauld place that night. But before going to bed and after taking my potions, I tried a few of my new clothes – I couldn't resist the temptation. They fitted perfectly and made me look handsome – no, beautiful.

Ha, I thought. Beautiful, me! The world could still amaze me.

* * *

**Author's note:** I'm afraid I'm out of ideas, that's why it took me so long to update. Over the next few days, I am going to write one or two final chapters and conclude the story.


	9. The Ministry and Diagon Alley

**9. The Ministry and Diagon Alley  
**

I woke up happily again and spent a lazy Sunday with the Potters. The children were fairly quite and didn't bug me at all, except for a little talk where I had to explain to their childish minds if I was a wizard (where was my wand then?) or a muggle like their uncle Dudley. It wasn't easy, I tell you. Fraction multiplication and division were easier, so we settled to that.

Harry took me to the music room and showed me the Black family tree. As a new head of the family, he had reinstated all members married to muggles or muggle-borns and deleted all death eaters, unless they had renounced their ways. I saw that the Malfoys were there. With a flick or his wand another branch appeared below the name Cronus Black and then he asked me if I wanted to be considered a part of the family.

I didn't know what to say. Of course this was a kind gesture, but I didn't feel right about it.

"I don't know, Harry. Twenty years ago, the word 'bastard' would be the legal way to describe my connection to your family."

"Yes, in the muggle-world, possibly. But in the magical world, these things are decided by the head of the family." He showed the Black family ring in his right hand, next to the Potter family ring. "And that would be me. So, what do you say?"

I still wasn't sure. "I don't want to create any problems, that's not why I'm here."

He smiled. "You're not. I'm just offering you something you deserve."

"Fine. Tell you what. I will accept only if all branches of the Black family agree. Is that all right?"

"Sure. Andy agrees —I already asked her opinion— and I'll have to check with the Malfoys. They're much better people those days. How about I invite Narcissa and Draco over to dinner tonight or some other day and see what they have to say?"

I shrugged. "Yes, all right, I suppose. But I'll have to take double antidepresant potion" I joked. (Hmm, no, not joked; laughed more like it.)

Harry said "All right", smiled and opened the door so we could return to the living room. I stopped him.

"Um, just out of curiosity, what happened to Lucius?"

He closed the door again and sat in an armchair. "He's fine. After the war, both he and Draco gave themselves in as death eaters. Draco was convicted ten months in Azkaban and Lucius five years. He was released in 2002 and decided to completely change his life. He divorced, passed the head of Malfoy family over to Draco and left the country. No one knows exactly where he is or what he does except Kingsley (it was a term of his release to inform the Ministry of his moves), but it's considered confidential information. Rumours say he lives in some european country as a muggle and deals with lgbt (*) politics." Seeing my gasp he continued. "Yes, that's an interesting part. If the rumours are correct, he always prefered men, he just married and had a child because his father had forced him. Also, he keeps contact with his son, but Draco doesn't talk about it and I don't ask."

* * *

The next morning I woke up early with the others. After breakfast, Kreature took my shopping to the Burrow and Harry and I flood to the Ministry of Magic. Our appointment was set at precisely nine o' clock.

Kingsley Shacklbolt greeted us warmly and went down to bussiness. "My contact in Greece took care of all your paperwork. You are supposed to be in a british psychiatric facility, which you will leave after a few months. You are exempted from military services. You have inherited your sister's part of your family flat. Your building will be rebuilt from scratch and then you can do whatever you want with the flat. Is that all right?"

I nodded, and the Minister continued. "Now, your registration as a wizard is almost complete. I realise you don't have a middle name, is that correct?"

I explained that middle names are not a custom in Greece, most of the people have just one first name. He said I could choose one now if I wanted to, and I smiled. I knew exactly which one fitted me. "Gordon", I said. He nodded and wrote it down.

Harry spoke. "It is my wish as head of the Black family that Alex is considered a part of it and take the last name Black. Should he accepts of course."

I turned to him. "What about our talk yesterday?"

"I received an owl from Narcissa this morning. It's perfectly fine with her."

"All right then" I replied talking to both men. "Alexander Gordon Costopoulos-Black."

Kingsley nodded and waved his wand. A golden card, the size of a usual credit card was conjured. On it I could see a moving photograph of myself, my name, date of birth etc, and the Black family crest. He gave it to me saying that all procedures were completed and I could now have my own wand.

The Minister took a glance at the clock on the wall and greeted us again, closing the meeting. We shook hands and got ready to leave, Harry to his office and I to the Burrow, when the Minister asked me to stay for a little while more. I sat down again and Kingsley said: "There is someone I want you to meet: My contact in Greece. Actually, you already know him, but not under this title. He prefers to keep this quiet, so I would ask you to not tell a soul about this, all right?"

I said I wouldn't, now really curious. A few minutes later and while we were having small talk, green flames emerged from the fireplace and a tall good-looking man in his fifties emerged.

Of course I knew him, everyone knew him. And everyone fancied him, as far as I knew. The thing was, he actually knew me too: we had been introduced about two years ago and then met in a few meetings and in the annual gay pride parade.

He reached and kissed me in both cheeks and greeted me. "Wow, Kingsley had told me you had your appearance changed, but he didn't tell me how good the results were!"

I hoped I didn't blush at the comment (and of course I never asked, so I can't really tell you); I smiled and greeted him back. "Hallo Peter. I should have guessed there was something more to your aristocratic ways that you let people know."

"Mr. Costopoulos-Black, Mr. Lucius Malfoy" Kingsley introduced us formally.

Lucius smiled to me again. "Now you share three things with my son – looks, Black heritage and the preference to men. I'm wondering if a bed will four that soon."

"The man none of us knew who he was in Pride '04?" I guessed. He just smiled.

I changed the subject. "So, how am I to call you now?" I asked.

"Peter among muggles, Lucius among wizards. I prefer to keep my two identities totally apart."

I nodded reassuringly. I realised it was his way of undoing his wrongs years ago – and I had to say, he was doing a great job. It also made sense now, how he came and left the public sphere.

After a little more small talk, he left via the floo network again. He had said he would be staying in Britain for a few weeks and then he would return in Greece in June. I could owl or telephone him any time I needed to talk about my interests in my country or just wanted to go there incognito. I said I would do that soon.

* * *

I flood to the Burrow using the public fireplaces in the Ministry. I had tea with Molly and offered her the necklace I had found in my vault. She didn't want to take it, but then I said how nice its pair looked on my mother and how she resembled her, so she got a little emotional, hugged me and accepted it.

We visited the Diagon Alley later. I bought a wand from Ollivander's, she bought me a few nice dress robes in light blue, dark blue and black and a few pairs of boots.

Then we returned to the Burrow, made dinner, ate it and I went to bed. I stripped of my clothes, took my potions and climbed into bed. My last thoughts were of the man I had been reintroduced to today. Huh! Who could have known?

* * *

**Author's note:** Of course this story is a completely fictional piece of work. I'm just playing a bit, completely for the fun of it, not implying anything whatsoever.

(*) lgbt = lesbian, gay (male), bisexual and transgender/ transexual.


	10. Hogwarts and epilogue

**10. Hogwarts and epilogue **

A few mornings later I was in the Burrow's kitchen, drinking coffee (tea is for when my throat aches, not for breakfast) and eating croissants, when two owls arrived for me.

One was from the department of magical maintenance of the ministry of magic, informing me that they were going to make my house in St. Ottery liveable within the week. I had already visited it. I was a small cottage containing a large kitchen, a fairly big living room and a restroom on the ground floor and two bedrooms with a common bathroom on the first floor. It was a nice house, but it did need some maintenance. It also needed for me to know a few things of how a magical establishment is run, since the house wasn't connected to the electrical network nor the water and drainage supply. Molly had said there are magical ways for those things and the ministry was taking care of that. They would also connect the house to the floo network.

The house was in the outskirts of the village, just like the Weasleys' and Lovegoods' which was nice, because I liked my privacy and quietness. I had to admit that, however I liked living with the Weasleys, I needed my private space back. I would see all of them in dinners, anyway. The whole family was very close, they met each other at least once a week.

The other letter was from Ginny. I was invited to dinner at Grimmauld place that evening. I would meet Narcissa Black and her son Draco. Professor Longbottom would be there too and we would talk about my appointment with the headmistress of Hogwards.

I was there at seven o' clock sharp, by floo, wearing dark blue robes with matching trousers. I felt like having dressed-up for carnival, but nice at the same time. I liked the outfit and thought of it as a little funny.

The others came a little later and we were introduced. All of them were warm and polite. Narcissa and Draco shared the same noble ways as Andromeda, common point of their aristocratic upbringing, but nothing insulting or snobbish. Could those people be former death eaters? There is nothing good or evil, I thought, just different ways of seeing things. It was how one treated people that mattered and, having met Lucius in a different environment, I knew this had nothing to do with taking sides during a war or making bad choices once.

We talked about studies over dinner. I informed them of my muggle degrees and they were interested to know how a muggle school or university worked. Both teachers acknowledged that magical education failed to prepare children for muggle universities, making it impossible for them to study various other domains – law, medicine, mathematics etc.

Then the discussion turned to Hogwarts. I was told that headmistress McGonagall thought I could be useful to the school in various ways, either by refreshing their muggle studies courses or by helping build non-magical curricula. About my magical studies, I would probably be taught as an external student by the school's teachers in its or my premises. Both offered to be my attendant teachers and I thanked them kindly.

* * *

The next morning I flood to Neville's office. I was given a tour of the castle —goddess, those european medieval castles were huge and luxurious— and then we entered the headmistress's office though a spiralling magical staircase.

She had a grandmother-ish style. I could see she was strict but fair. We talked about my magical studies and said the same things as the previous evening. At the end of August I would get an owl with the things I would need and my timetable. I was to use the floo network to reach and leave the castle and my classes would all be at the afternoon.

Then she accio-ed the sorting hat and asked me to wear it. I sat back and did it. Immediately, an intense conversation started inside my head.

_Hmm, you're be a difficult choice, you. Your age doesn't help me, of course, you had years to grow your thought... well, that one is clear: you have a sharp, hard-working mind. I can see all bits and pieces of thought processes going around. _

_But they don't always give results, do they? _

_Clever people think and think, mediocre people just jump into conclusions way too quickly. That's not a bad think. You'd be a fine Ravenclaw. But I can also see courage... _

_That's stubbornness you're talking about, not courage. _

_What's stubbornness but courage? You don't compromise, always seeking to fulfil your needs. _

_That's ambition, then? _

_Hmm, ambition... yes, but what you seek is what you deserve. No more ambition than one should have. _

_Not a Slytherin, then? _

_Clearly not. Not a Hufflepuff either – you're loyal but not that hard-working. You keep the thoughts and leave the work to others. Griffindor or Ravenclaw, I'd say. So we're back in the courage thing. _

Courage... was I courageous? I thought of something that took place a week before the fire. I had decided to commit suicide. I knew there was no hope and I couldn't bare my life any longer. But when I opened the window and looked down, I just couldn't do it. Was it the sense of duty (to be there for my sister) or was it fear? I liked to think it was the first, it was more noble, but I knew it was the second. I was too damned scared to do it.

_I'm not questioning your nobility, boy, I know all about that – more than you realise. But I see what you mean, your stubbornness can't turn into courage and it's more than mental condition – it's personality. Well, fine then. _

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Congratulations, Mr. Costopoulos-Black" the headmistress said. "You begin on September 2nd, six o'clock. You'll speak with either prof. Longbottom or prof. Malfoy. You'll begin with first year courses and if you make it, you will continue with second year before June. We'll see. At that point, we may also be able to talk about other ways of co-operation."

* * *

A week after that, I was staring at my new home. It was sparkling and totally operating. Ronald Weasley had shown me the day before how everything operated, wizarding and muggle. The wizarding ways were interesting enough, but not for everyday use. I was muggle-raised and had grew depending of certain things, like electricity and telephone. The ministry people had made sure I would have those comforts and had gone so far as to stock the kitchen with plenty of food.

The man who took care of my interests in Greece —whose name was to remain secret in Britain— had sent my furniture that hadn't been destroyed in the fire using muggle transportation and I had bought the rest from the local IKEA.

So, the house was as ready as it could be and I moved in. Two nights later, I hosted a thank-you-for-the-help-and-hospitality dinner to everyone I had met.

It had taken less than two months for the help I had asked for to fix everything and create the means for my life to take a different turn.

**THE END **

* * *

**Author's final note:** I want to thank dearly everyone (that is, Cassadra30 :P) who took the time to read and review this story. The truth is, I had some thoughts of expanding it to something more than an OC living in the Harry Potter universe, but it didn't work out. Perhaps it will some day, in which case I'll make a sequel. For the time being, it's the best I could do and, well, what I wanted to write, so I'm perfectly happy with it. :-)

You might also find interesting an one-shot little story I wrote by the name of "Fairytale". It's not much, just my muse blessing me with some rambling last afternoon:-)


End file.
